


Credit

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [15]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “Sounds like you’re being punished for taking on the bully and losing."“Oh, no. This is the consequence for winning.”A difficult conversation with Julian's parents (is there any other kind?).





	Credit

Julian gets letters from his mother on a monthly basis. He has ever since his parents visited the station, and he sends a brief reply three or four times a year (usually three). It’s all the contact with his parents he cares for, and if there was one good thing to come out of the war, it was that he had a perfectly valid excuse not to visit his father in prison.

After plenty of consideration, he’s concluded that he doesn’t want to force a closer relationship with his parents out of a sense of obligation. He has more years of hurt than he can paper over for their sake, and it’s not all about feeling his parents decided he was a failure when he was six years old. His father is dismissive and mother too keen on avoiding conflict at all costs, for a start. They made their choices and can live with the consequences. Julian doesn’t see any need to give them a larger role in his life than they currently have.

However complicated his filial relationship is, though, it doesn’t mean he wants to see his parents come to harm because of him. Now he needs to call them and attempt to make Father listen, never a fun prospect.

He arrived home this evening to a photo of his parent’s house with two broken windows and the caption _Consider this his warning_. There’s only one group who could’ve sent it. Clearly Father, ignoring Julian’s express wishes as usual, has decided to complain about the discharge from Starfleet to anyone who will listen.

“Mind you,” says Elim while the call connects, “I’ve yet to find any evidence that we’re being spied upon here. Not a single surveillance device has been planted in the apartment. It’s really quite surprising.”

“Very sure of your ability to find them, aren’t you?”

Elim hmphs. “I’ve never met a Section 31 agent I couldn’t outwit.”

“Good.”

Finally, his mother appears on the screen, very surprised. “Julian! It’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Mother. I need you to grant access to your computer to secure the transmission on your end.”

She frowns, but nods. “What do you need me to do for that?”

“Garak will take care of it.” He decides not to use Elim’s first name, to avoid giving his parents any ideas that they are allowed the privilege.

If Mother is shocked to see Julian’s communications security assistant is Cardassian, she does a decent job of hiding it under her general startlement. “Your father’s in his garden. I’ll get him.”

“Might as well wait until Garak is finished,” says Julian. There will be no pleasantries once he and Father start speaking. There never are.

She nods slightly. “Remote access request. There.”

“Thank you,” Elim says. “Now it’s a simple matter.”

“Can we talk while he works?” Mother asks.

Julian spends the next three minutes telling her mostly superficial details about Vadari VII, until Elim pronounces, “The transmission is secure.”

“Now should I get your father?” asks Mother.

“Yes, please.”

Julian waits anxiously until both his parents come into view, at which point Father says. “Jules! Ah, Julian.”

At least he’s trying to use the right name. “Hello, Father. Did you speak with anyone about my discharge recently? Specifically, right before the living room windows were broken?”

“How’d you know about the windows?”

“I’ll get to that. Did you?”

“Well, it’s just shameful how Starfleet was happy to keep you around only until they won the war, and I mentioned it to a reporter, but I haven’t done an interview or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

How like him to think an exposé on Starfleet reneging on a deal will solve all his problem. It’s not likely that any amount of investigation will uncover evidence of Section 31’s role in Julian’s dismissal, but a surge of public opinion in his favor is theoretically possible, and Starfleet might cave to demands to reinstate an unfairly treated war hero. Julian wouldn’t like his life expectancy if that happened.

All things considered, he could be much worse off than he is, here in a place where his medical contributions matter and he can have Elim for his partner. There’s no going back to Starfleet, and Julian accepts that even as he still misses it. Father needs to do the same.

He takes a deep breath. “I need you to listen very carefully,” he says, leaving off _for once in your life_. “I wasn’t discharged over my genes. I went up against a powerful enemy, and the resequencing provided them with a convenient excuse to secure revenge in the form of my dismissal from Starfleet.”

“What do you mean, a powerful enemy?” Father asks.

“I can’t answer that, but I got a message informing me your windows were a warning. If you keep pressing the issue, they’ll probably kill you. So for God’s sake don’t talk to any more reporters, do you understand?”

His mother looks shocked, where his father, unsurprisingly, goes directly to outrage. “And Starfleet just let this happen? What kind of organization are they running, anyway?”

“Are you in any danger?” asks Mother. It’s nice that one of his parents reacts with concern for him.

“No. If they wanted me dead, I would be.”

She doesn’t look especially reassured.

“I cannot stress enough how important it is that you accept this, or at least keep your frustration to yourself,” says Julian.

“Because a reporter could go digging around and find out the real story.” Father, of course, likes the idea far too much for his own good.

“It’s not worth it,” Julian says, trying desperately to get through to him. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. People will die. You, Mother, the reporter. It would be nothing at all to them. Tying up a few loose ends, nothing more, and they’ll do it if they think you’re even the slightest threat, so _stay quiet_.”

“Sounds like you’re being punished for taking on the bully and losing,” says Father.

“Oh, no. This is the consequence for winning.”

Not even Father has a response for that, which satisfies Julian more than it ought.

“I did what had to be done. I saved lives. Let it go, Father. My commission is not worth dying over.”

The worst part, which he’s never acknowledged except when Elim called him out on it, is how the discharge reverts to the precedent holding Augments are too dangerous to be allowed in Starfleet. That eats at Julian, who felt a responsibility to demonstrate otherwise, but there isn’t a thing he can do about it. In fact, trying to fight it would only serve to prove how restless and ambitious he is, to those inclined to think so, which means the best he can do is accept his punishment and demonstrate his suitability for society here on Vadari VII.

His mother puts a hand on Father’s shoulder. “I think we should listen to Julian, Richard.”

“It’s not right,” protests Father.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees. “Getting yourself killed and leaving me without you wouldn’t make it right, though.”

The idea of leaving her widowed gets through to him more than anything Julian has said. At least he’s listening. 

“If it helps, they did let me keep my medical license because of the deal you made,” adds Julian. He often reminds himself that he is still able to prove he’s not a threat as a doctor, if not a Starfleet officer.

Father’s tone is grudging. “That’s something.”

“And you’re really safe?” asks Mother.

Elim chooses this moment to join the conversation. “He is. So long as you keep silent.”

“And who’re you?” asks Father.

Julian gives Elim a questioning look and gets a minute nod in return. Might as well get all the surprises over with in one call. “Garak is my partner.”

“Pleased to meet you,” says Mother after a brief moment of shock.

“Your _partner?_”

“Yes, Father. You know, the person with whom I’m sharing my life.”

“Richard.” That’s Mother’s serious warning voice, which she uses far too rarely and Father therefore knows enough to respect. He stops talking.

She gives Julian and Elim a smile. “How long have you been together?”

“A few weeks, but it was seven and a half years in the making,” answers Julian.

“Seven and a half years?” That’s Father again.

“I’m so happy for you,” says Mother, and Julian can hear what she doesn’t say. She’s relieved that someone accepts and loves him, augmentations at all.

So is Julian.

“I’m Amsha,” she tells Elim, “and my husband is Richard. I hope you and Julian will come to Earth soon so we can meet you in person.”

Julian isn’t making any promises. He does want to see Miles, though, in which case he thinks he might manage a meal or two with his parents for Mother’s sake. “We’ll see. It’s a long trip.”

Father obviously wants to say something scathing, probably about Julian’s failure to visit on a regular basis or indeed at all, but he’s still heeding Mother’s warning. After a glance her way, he settles for, “I imagine they need you, all those people sick with radiation poisoning.”

The idea allows him to believe his designer son is vitally important. It also gives Julian an out he’s happy to take. “We’re through the worst of it, but there are still recurring problems, and some of the patients who were nearest the weapons will need monitoring the rest of their lives. Not to mention, the hospital lost three doctors and seven nurses in the attack.”

He goes through a few more minutes of answering his parents’ questions about Vadari VII, because he’d rather that subject than delving into his relationship or Elim. Mother must sense this, seeing how she doesn’t press.

Father remains on his best behavior, though he does get in, “So, Garak, what do you do?”

“I’m a tailor and clothier.”

“And he’s good with computers,” adds Mother.

“A hobby of mine,” says Elim smoothly.

“He made my shirt.” Julian declines to mention this particular piece of clothing is the latest phase in Elim’s uncharacteristically blatant campaign to replace his entire wardrobe. Truth be told, the new shirt looks good on him, and he thinks the emerald green is more flattering than a certain yellow tank top with which he’s agreed to part, after all. As long as he gets to keep color in his clothing, he’s willing to compromise a bit and listen to Elim’s advice on which hues do him no favors.

If nothing else, it gives him leverage to look after Elim’s health.

Mother is suitably impressed. “It looks very good on him.”

“Thank you,” says Elim. He always appreciates compliments on his creations.

Father, meanwhile, might be approaching twenty-year record for keeping his criticism to himself. The disapproval is clear in his tight eyes. (If there’s one emotion Julian never had trouble picking up, it’s disapproval; he had plenty of chances to catalogue the signs, and also to decide he won’t let it influence him.) He nevertheless holds his tongue.

“And you were friends the entire time you were on Deep Space Nine?” asks Mother. Not that Julian told her when he got the posting. She learned later.

“Garak was my first friend on the station.” The first person to accept him, flaws and immaturity and all. The same can probably be said in reverse. Truly, they’ve grown together.

“And you moved to Vadari VII with him before you were a couple? How romantic.”

Elim isn’t comfortable being called by such an adjective. On the plus side, this has won him over as far as Mother is concerned. Father is still pointedly saying nothing.

“Yes, we’re very happy,” says Julian. “It is dinner time here, and without replicators we should start cooking.” By which he means he would like to end this call now.

“I’m so pleased for you, Julian. Thank you for calling.”

Well, he didn’t have much choice, did he? It says a great deal about his relationship with his parents when it takes a threat from Section 31 before he calls. Mother and Father should consider that, but Father will never admit to his own part in creating this situation.

“I won’t talk to any reporters,” says Father.

“Or anyone,” adds Julian.

“Right. Mouth shut about your discharge.”

Julian decides since Father made an effort during this conversation, he should too. “I know it’s not what you envisioned, but it’s worth it. I would do it again. And the fact that I still have my medical license means more than I can tell you.”

Father nods. “Okay, then.”

“Take care, Julian. Garak, I hope we’ll get to speak with you again,” Mother says.

Elim nods. “It’s been a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Goodnight.” Julian ends the call. Then he lets himself relax and lean on Elim’s shoulder. “That actually went better than I thought it would, I’m sorry to say.”

“With that man for a father, you are a great credit to yourself.”

Julian is able to believe that, now. Whatever role the geneticists of Adigeon Prime played in shaping him – a significant one to be sure – he is as much his own man as anyone else.

“I could say the same.”

It’s as far as he’ll delve into the subject of Tain. They’ve never talked about Elim’s father. Julian got half a sentence out upon their return from the internment camp before realizing that it was a spectacularly bad idea. At the time, he wondered why Elim allowed him to listen in. Now he knows Elim wanted to be understood – but it didn’t extend to a conversation on the subject. 

Julian can relate to that. He doesn’t like talking about his father, either, and yet he could never really be understood without the knowledge of his resequencing and Father’s grand plans for his life.

“Your mother is pleasant,” Elim says.

“Mother usually is. Standing up to Father the way she did, now that is uncommon.” If she’d done it more often, Julian’s childhood might have been very different. “Someday maybe you’ll tell me about your mother.”

While he’d like to know, he also accepts that some of Elim’s doors will always be closed to him.

“The woman you would call my mother was not a gifted cook.”

Julian thinks about this. For whatever reason which is likely attributable to Tain, Elim struggles to make direct statements about such personal subjects, but Julian recognizes his remark as a genuine effort to offer information. _You would call _suggests Elim doesn’t, or Cardassians generally don’t… oh.

A person can learn a great deal about a culture through years of reading its literature, even with an interpreter who’s very selective about what he reveals. Cardassians don’t adopt except children to whom they are related. They do, on occasion, serve as foster parents on behalf of the state.

_I should have killed your mother before you were born_, Tain said, and it all makes a sickening kind of sense. Tain killed Elim’s mother after his birth, and then arranged for a trustworthy woman to raise him.

It’s possible Julian is wrong, but he needs to tread very carefully regardless. “If she loved and raised you, then yes, I’d say she’s your mother.”

“I was ten years old before I tasted sem’hal stew which hadn’t been over-salted.”

So, his theory is right, but Elim isn’t ready to talk about it. He may never be. That’s fine. Julian recognizes what has been offered to him. “That can go one of two ways. You learned to like over-salted sem’hal stew, or you had to choke down hers forever after. Considering you never ordered any dish with extra salt as far as I know, I’m going to say the latter.”

“On Cardassia, children eat what they are served.”

“Father tried that once. He gave me the same beets four meals in a row before Mother threw them away and stopped buying beets. If there’s one trait I have in common with my father, it’s the depth of my unwillingness to give in.”

“I don’t understand your distaste for beets. The flavor isn’t very complex, but it’s inoffensive.”

“The taste is neutral. It’s the texture I don’t like,” explains Julian. “And thank you for telling me about your mother. Mine likes you, if that wasn’t obvious.”

“It was. Your father doesn’t share her opinion.”

“Father rarely approves of my life choices. I’m used to it.” Right now, Julian doesn’t want to discuss his father any more than Elim wants to hold an in-depth conversation about Tain. “We should start dinner.”

“There won’t be a beet in sight,” promises Elim.

To mutual relief, that’s the end of discussing parents. The next day, though, Julian gets a message from Mother asking for _a picture of you and Garak, if it’s not too much trouble. _Inclined to be generous since she unhesitatingly accepted his Cardassian partner, which isn’t a small thing in the current political climate, Julian convinces Elim to pose for one.

Kara thoroughly enjoys serving as their photographer.

**Author's Note:**

> Garak made a show of acting put out about the picture, but I think we all know he was secretly thrilled Amsha wanted one. (Julian later filled Kara in on this detail.)


End file.
